Note: There is a lot of cursing in this one and some firing of the F-Bomb.

-----

"What the fuck?!" The intruder yelled, Canada backed away, searching his empty belt for something that was about to be there. This was his country, he had the advantage here. From his new found position he had an easier time making out who the intruder was. "What do you mean tying up my brother and sticking him in your freezing garage, Canada?!" Romano yelled in anger.

"But wai-" Canada shut his mouth and hit the cement floor, escaping the gunfire as Romano pulled a hidden gun and fired on him three times in quick succession. He gritted his teeth and jumped to his feet, making a mad dash for his car and ducking behind it. He produced a gun from his belt and cautiously peered around the car. Another shot was fired, slicing a few strands of yellow from his head.

As Canada returned fire, Italy whined in fear, attempting to hop with the chair away from the loud shots and ricocheting bullets. Determinedly he hopped towards a metal cabinet. Just a few more feet! Two shots were heard simultaneously as Canada had pulled another handgun from his belt. A bullet whizzed by Italy's head, startling him and making him cry out. There was the sound of a shattering plate as a bullet ricocheted off the metal walls in the darkness.

"Don't you move!" He yelled as best he could, his Quebecois accent making itself known.

"Don't order him around!" Romano ran over to Feliciano to stand in front of the helpless man. Canada took aim and fired, tearing into the skin on Romano's arm, blood spattering the side of Italy's head as the hot bullet tore skin away from its body. "Fuck!" He fired the last of his bullets, getting Canada in the shoulder, the second bullet found a sticking place in the blonde's left hand, about severing his middle finger as it passed through. Canada growled and gritted his teeth against the pain and slid down behind the car as his broken fingers screamed at him for attention. The hot bullet lodged in his shoulder wasn't pleasant either.

Dammit Romano, you better have a damn good explanation for this! He spat angrily in his head. He could hear Romano cutting Italy's bonds and the two running together from the garage. "Putain de merde." He moaned, the blood trickled down his arm, staining the concrete of the floor. At least it had only been his left hand, if that had been purposeful on Romano's part he did not know. He doubted he would be able to get much use out of his left hand for a long time. He cursed Romano again for it. "Why did he shoot me like that?" Romano had really, actually shothim! And he shot back, mostly for appearance, he hadn't truly meant to hit his arm, he meant for it to miss. Which, he guessed, was why the bullet only nicked him. Romano had certainly done a lot more damage than that though, paying Canada back ten fold with a bullet to the shoulder and a nearly amputated middle left finger. He snorted at how Romano was easily manipulating the situation. He could only imagine what Lovino was saying to the boy.

He gritted his teeth as he stood up made his way to the door to the rest of the house. It was cold and he was losing blood.

---

"Thank you for saving me!" Feliciano threw his arms around Lovino as the two escaped back to their home country… Or what was left of it. Lovino had to beat him off his shoulders so the two could run without much difficulty.

"I couldn't leave you with that guy! No one even remembers who he is, if I hadn't saved you no one would've remembered to!" The blood coming from his arm flew to the ground as they ran, catching Feliciano's attention.

"Oh no! You're hurt too! God, stop!" Feliciano grabbed Lovino's arm, slowing them to an eventual stop. Feliciano ignoring the sting in his toes as he only had socks on his feet. He was also ignoring the zing that alerted him that his wrist had something wrong with it, it now throbbed hotly.

"We don't have to stop Veneziano! We have to keep going!"

"But you're hurt!" Romano groaned.

"It's only a flesh wound. It'll stop before long."

"Are you sure?" Romano confidently nodded, taking his brother's hand and starting to run again. Feliciano bit his lip against the pain in his throbbing wrist, yep he was sure he had done something to it when he fell in the cafeteria. The air was cold, the wind making it worse, Feliciano clutched the blanket closer to himself with his free hand as Romano broke into a mess of snow covered bushes, yanking Italy with him. "Bro, where are we going?" It was then Feliciano saw where Lovino had been taking him. It really had confused Italy on whether or not they were going to try to walk home.

Back at the house, the brothers sat down and got reacquainted over dinner after they splinted and wrapped Feliciano's sprained wrist. They had cleaned up Romano's arm too, he was going to need stitches but the bleeding had stopped long ago. Italy relayed to him everything that had happened since he and Germany had gotten married. It made Romano sick just how happy he really was. There were very few times he spoke of unpleasant things and when he did, they were very minor. He did say, however how he was disappointed with Germany's keeping facts from him. Italy had thought that one terrorist attack had occurred that week, the one that Italy himself had been involved in. There had been numerous ones, creating the new scars on his love's skin. He did ask if Romano knew why Canada had abducted him, to which Romano simply responded that he did not know. He threw out that Canada wanted attention, but inside knew that Canada was not like that and never would be. Either way, whether it was happy or sad, Romano hated every minute of Feliciano's talking about Germany.

"But things are really going great! I've missed you and your cooking so much. I was beginning to think that I would never taste it again." Feliciano smiled to Lovino cheerily. Really, he was worried about Ludwig in the hospital, but it was as sure as the sun would rise that Gilbert was there with him. Plus he and his brother hadn't spoken in some time and he really needed to catch up with him.

"The bruise on your face…" Veneziano reached up and gingerly touched it. He decided a lie was best.

"Canada did it." Romano gave him a look, his brother was terrible at lying and there were very frew things he'd try to lie about.

"You don't bruise that fast. Unless… how long were you there?"

"He hit me last night. So… What time is it?"

"About 17:00." Italy calculated in his head how long it had taken them to get back to Italy, about two hours so he had been there nearly eight hours.

"He must've hit me again if I woke up." He was lying through his teeth by this point. Romano had had enough of this.

"Veneziano, you're a terrible liar, did Germany do that?" He spat the other nation's name as if it were a form of curse.

"No! He would never-"

"Feliciano!" The younger nation frowned and nodded, he knew he was bad at lying, but he had to try. 'Why?" Romano demanded to know why in the hell Germany even laid a single hand on Feliciano.

"Because I was bothering him." Veneziano replied meekly, he would have to ask Romano sooner or later about the attacks.

"Because you were bothering him?!" And there was the yelling, he leaned away form his more violent brother, this might get ugly.

"He really believes that you sent the terrorists to attack him."

How did that damn potato freak know?! Prussia! Romano laughed, "What? He accuses me of attacking him!" Then he got pissed… "Weren't you hurt too earlier in the week?!" Feliciano nodded solemnly.

"I told him that. You wouldn't do that. He didn't believe me." Romano almost felt sorry for tricking Feliciano like this… His brother's love and single-hearted trust in him as he lied. But he was Feliciano's only older brother, he had to steer him in the right direction.

"It wasn't me. I promise you." it was so easy to fool him, he had to suppress a smirk.

"Thank you." Feliciano sounded more relieved than he ever had before. "How is your arm?" Lovino looked at his wrapped upper arm and rotated it a few times.

"It hurts, but it will heal." Romano thought of Canada then for a moment. He'd unintentionally shot his fingers as well as his shoulder. But really, Matthew shot him first! Well, to be technical, he himself fired first, but he knew Matthew would duck! Did Matthew think that he had been serious about the whole thing? Would he refuse to talk to him or help? He hadn't thought of that, so he resolved to call Canada at the earliest convenient time.

"Uhm, how has it been over here? You look great." Romano looked himself over, when had his scars closed up? When had his skin become it's normal color and his hair stopped falling out?

"It's been alright I guess, nothing big."

"Have you heard from Antoni-"

"Do not say his name!" Lovino jumped to his feet to yell. Veneziano backed away from him, he had expected the two to at least be on speaking terms by now. But, considering that it was Romano, he decided it all the same really wasn't surprising.

"Alright."

---

Canada wrapped his hand, after the bullet had hit his finger it continued to streak over the back of his hand. It was a terrible mess and he doubted he would be able to fully recover from it. Nonetheless, he still counted himself as lucky to have the finger and probably always would. Damn was he going to yell at Romano about this later. However, he knew from the pain and small range of motion that the rest of his hand was in bad shape too. "Putain de merde." He growled as he used a pair of hot, sterilized tongs to reach back and remove the bullet from his left shoulder. He had to clench his jaw to keep from stopping, to keep from crying, screaming. In one quick jerk, the tongs and bullet were out, both sitting in his sink. Blood came again, quickly he grabbed a pile of gauze and wadded it up, pressing them to the open wound to staunch the bleeding.

The blood stopped sooner than he thought it would, he tossed the wadded up pads into the garbage. Making another wad and sticking it over the hole, he wrapped bandages around himself to keep it in place due to his profound lack of medical tape.

There was a knock to his front door…. He cursed lightly as he threw the medical supplies into a cabinet. Running down the stairs (a very painful twenty-two steps) he grabbed his long beige coat from its place on his rack and threw it on. Canada zipped it up to hide his chest and wrapped bullet wound, he didn't, however, put a pair of gloves on to disguise his hand as the knock came again. Scrambling for the door and just putting his left hand in his pocket he timidly turned the doorknob, afraid of who might be out there. Upon opening the door he realized that this was indeed an occasion, Prussia stared back at him from the snow-covered stoop of his house. Canada never got visitors, least of all during his winters, he looked up to the top of Prussia's head… His bird was there and shivering…

Canada nearly made a snarky comment at him, but refrained for fear he would not remember the joke. He hadn't seen Gilbert in so long... The two hadn't spoken to one another since the war began. In the past week he had been so stressed out he had forgotten the existence of his best friend. Perhaps it had been because he'd taken Prussia's presence for granted, the man had practically lived with him previously. But how Prussia stood now. How he looked at him... Could it have been possible that he had forgotten ever being friends? Just because he still remembered Canada's name didn't prove he still remembered what they used to be.

"Ueh, Prussia, hello." Canada greeted, a little bit apprehensive of how the man would act. Did he even want to be friends anymore. Canada guessed probably not when Prussia's only reply was "Canada." The albino nodded, regarding Matthew as a respected enemy of war… Prussia was usually like that though, no reason to freak out yet… At least, hopefully not… Canada nearly cried as Gilbert's gaze and offensive stance never changed, were they really over?

"Can I help you?" Canada asked as if nothing were wrong.

"I hev some qvestions dat neet answering." He pushed past Canada into his house, taking his jacket off a moment later and putting it on the coat rack. Canada closed the door and half smiled to himself, grateful for Prussia's familiarity with the house and his rudeness. He nearly laughed as he realized how stupid it was to be comforted by someone being rude. The bird on Prussia's head shook the snow off itself and seemed to snuggle into his hair.

"Uhm, okay… Prussia… That bird…" It was nothing new, he just felt like commenting on it.

"Birt? Vhat birt?" Prussia examined himself for a few moments before looking at Canada as if he were crazy.

"The one on your head…"

"My het?" His hand went up to feel his head, the bird didn't seem to mind Prussia touching it and plucking it from his head. He examined it for a few moments before sticking it back on his head and letting it go about its business. "Dat birt, I knew it vas dere." Canada wasn't quite sure how true that was, but Prussia wasn't really one to admit otherwise.

"So uehm, you had questions for me?" Where was Kumajiro? Right on cue the bear strolled into the room. "Ah! Kumakichi! There you are!" Canada leaned down and picked him up, clutching him to his chest. He realized that Gilbert forgetting so much really wasn't that big a surprise. Even the great and awesome Prussia had his limits of uninteresting things he could remember. Really he didn't have the right to be too offended.

"Who're you?" The bear asked, turning his nose up to look at Canada.

"I'm Canada." He almost whined to the white fuzz-ball. Prussia watched with amusement as the bird on his head chirped twice. He plucked the bird from his head for a moment and looked it over. How long had it been sitting up there?

"Jus don'd crap on my het." He commented to the bird before putting it back, it chirped happily. Canada gave him a queer look as he leaned down and picked Kumajiro up with his right arm. That didn't mean his left didn't protest, but it was bearable.

"I don't think that-"

"You hev a talking polar bear." That ended the argument before it even began. Canada knew that if the argument had started he would undeniably lose since, well… Prussia was Prussia. A smile had to be suppressed on Canada's part.

"Uhm… I have left over poutin if you're hungry." Prussia nodded and fondly looked about the house. He missed this place, it was larger than his own place back in East Germany. The dish Canada mentioned sounded familiar, he just couldn't figure out why.

"Vhere voult you prefer to talk?" Canada was being so polite to him today, how weird.

"My kitchen is fine." So both of the them headed for Canada's kitchen. Canada made sure to close the garage door, which had been left open, before Prussia followed him in. He did not want to explain the sight of blood on his floor as well as a chair with slashed bulky twine by it. A groan escaped his throat as he remembered the shattered plate on the floor in there. He was going to love cleaning that up.

"Mmm, vhat efer dis poutin ding is, it schmells goot." Perhaps it was a bit cruel for Prussia to act as if he had forgotten so much about Canada, but he was acting so strange. He was going to act strange back until he figured out what was up with Canada's personality change. Could it merely have been the man had changed so much in the recent years that he no longer wished to be friends? A worried grunt escaped him, he noticed Canada's left hand as he took it from his coat pocket to mess with the pot holding a brown sauce. He also exhibited a great lack of motor ability in flexing it. "Vhat dit you do to your hant?" Canada twitched before laughing nervously and scratching the back of his head with his right hand after passing Kumajiro painfully to his left.

"I smashed it in a door during a fight with America. Nearly lost my finger." That certainly caught Prussia's attention.

"Your finger?"

"Yeah, my middle one. Really, sometimes I think my brother really doesn't know how strong he is. I heard from England once, that when he was still a child, he picked a charging bull up off the ground!" He smiled, thinking of his brother. Canada, in actuality, was an effective liar, he just never practiced it enough for this fact to become known. But oh how he hated, hated, hated lying to this man.

"Peh, figures you nearly losd von of your more useful vons. Is it going to be alrighd?" Canada put the bowl-plate in front of him with a fork and raised his bandaged hand to look at it. He ignored the glint of concern in the pair of red eyes, taking it as an illusion.

"Remains to be seen." He tried to flex the muscles underneath the bandages, only for the various shattered bones to scream in agony. "Im pretty sure some other bones are broken too." Prussia's right eyebrow rose.

"How long ago vas it?"

"Earlier today actually."

"Led me see it den." Both the torn, tattered skin and the burns, along with the hole would give away that a door definitely had not done it. He didn't like shutting Gilbert out, but thanks to Romano the two were now enemies.

"No, it's fine, I'm going to go see a doctor anyway. It really hurts unwrapping it too."

"Liddle pain nefer hurd anyvon." Gilbert growled coldly.

"Please Prussia… You're here for a reason?" Prussia growled but remember that he was in Canada's territory. The two used to be best friends! He could've been nicer about telling him off. Really he was there for a reason too.

"Alrighd. I'm here to see if you mighd know aboud de attack on Germany." Prussia took a bite of the food, chewing it and giving it a queer look as he did.

Oh... That's right...

"Everyone knows about it, it's all over the news." Prussia sat the fork down as Canada went to get himself his own bowl of poutin. After not being able to finish his earlier meal this was welcome.

"Dat's nod exacdly vhat I meand." The bird on Prussia's head chirped as he pushed the bowl of food away from himself. Canada hadn't missed Prussia's refusal to eat the food, everyone's a critic. Hadn't he remembered that Prussia didn't like poutin? Why wasn't he openly complaining!? He nearly ground his teeth, frustrated that Prussia was censoring his behavior around Matthew of all people. At least Canada knew he had taste buds. Prussia hadn't spit it out or dropped gagging to the floor like most people did with England's food. But then again, Prussia generally liked Canada's cooking, especially his breakfasts.

"Do you want water instead?" Canada took a bite of the last of the poutin before setting his bowl down. Prussia nodded and Canada went to a cabinet to get a glass. "What did you mean then?" The blonde asked, getting them back on track.

"Do you know who dit it?"

"No. I don't have the faintest idea." Canada returned to the table, sitting the glass of tap water down in front of Prussia. "Are you assuming I was involved in some way?" Canada sat down in the chair across from Prussia's, giving him a look.

"Noh, noh. Nod aht ahll. I just vanted to know if you hef been aht leasd keeping in contacd vid Romano." Canada skewered a fry and ate it as Prussia explained himself. Canada frowned at Gilbert's non-reaction, all he was doing was being polite!

"Not a lot of communication is going on. You're the only one that remembers I exist that's not my next door neighbor brother." The white-haired man nodded, tapping his fingers and sipping water. Canada almost frowned at Prussia's readily agreeing with him, but why say anything else on the matter? It really was true that most people forgot he existed.

"Can you put me down?" Canada obliged the white bear he had been carrying around the kitchen.

"Do you want Prussia's poutin?" Kumajiro nodded and Canada placed the bowl on the floor.

"Do you know anyvon dat hes been?" Canada sucked on his tongue in a thoughtful gesture before answering him. "Other than America and England, I don't know. Unless his brother has been talking to him." Prussia shook his head.

"Italy is missing."

"Missing?!" Canada dropped his fork and began to stand as if he would help look then and there. Prussia waved him down to his chair again. "Missing like how?"

"He vas abductet from de hospidal." Canada did a wonderful job of acting speechless. "Whoefer it vas ahlso attacket de nurse. Clubbet her in de temple vid a blund objecd." He punctuated his revelation by tapping his right temple with a finger. "It appearet to be a black jack." Had Canada remembered to put that away?!

"What?" He took another bite to prevent himself from making a face.

"It's ahlod like a sant bag. It's compresset indo leader and fery hart. Usually it is jus uset to knock people oud from behint, bud it is effective to kill somevon vid too." If Canada had killed her he certainly hadn't counted on it.

"Is she still alive?"

"Ja, she's nod deat. Jus incapacidatet." Canada visibly relaxed and took the last bite of his poutin in the bowl. "Soh sensitive Canada. She vas only a human. Is only a human."

"I hold them in high esteem, though, you know that. What would a nation be without its inhabitants? Who was that one human you really liked?" Canada pretended not to remember. A reminiscent smile found it's way to Prussia's well-disguised visage.

"Old Fritz." The bird on Prussia's head chirped and played with a hair. "Schtop dat!" He waved his hand over the bird in a shooing motion. The bird hopped from his head and hovered laboriously above the hand, dropping back down to his nest of white after Prussia put his hand down.

Prussia sighed and mumbled something to himself, he had really thought that Canada would know something. How could he face his brother empty-handed? He stood and took a drink from the glass that Canada had given him.

"You're leaving already?" Canada asked, not wanting him to leave yet. Despite his rather precarious position, he wanted to reacquaint himself with the man. Their friendship had been one of the best things he had ever experienced and he wanted it back.

"Ja I hev to go tell Germany you ditn'd know anyding. I vas hoping you voult hev known someding. He von'd admid it, bud he's scaret aboud dis. If you fint anyding oud, tell me alrighd?" Canada didn't speak, afraid his voice would betray him in some way. He nodded and smiled. "Dank you Canada."

"It's no problem. I'm worried for Italy too." At least that wasn't a lie. Prussia turned and left the kitchen, Canada stood, following him out to the entrance hall. The red-eyed man pulled on his coat, his bird snuggled down into his hair.

"Dank you for your hospidality Canada."

Stop being so goddamn polite!! He couldn't stand it! Gilbert's politeness was practically an insult! It was as if he were throwing away years, upon years, upon years of friendship! He had already assessed that he probably didn't remember much but that was even worse! He was so frustrated he felt like crying.

"Like I said, no problem." Prussia nodded to him one last time before throwing open the door. A wall of white rushed in to meet them both, quickly, Prussia slammed the door.

"Hokay! Ve ahre nod leafing!" Prussia reached up to feel for the yellow bird. "You okay up dere?" The bird cheeped meekly, shivering. At that point, red-eye looked to Canada and arched an eyebrow.

"You know what America says about Ohio, right?"

"Vhat?"

"If you don't like the weather, wait ten minutes. Sometimes I feel it applies here too."

"I neet a guesd room."

Did I ever offer to let you stay? Canada's mind snarkily replied. His external self merely smiled and complied since really it would be unkind to shove Prussia into the blizzard. Especially since he still remembered their history. It was oddly comforting for Gilbert's overt familiarity and rudeness with what Canada's choice would've been. Allowing him to stay without question or a single word.

"You sait 'vaid ten minudes'… Ahm I going to be here ahll nighd?" Prussia said as he sat on the edge of the bed in his designated room. Canada sighed and nodded, while good weather certainly was fickle here snowy weather was not. Especially during winter. Well, technically it was fall, but whatever.

"I'm sorry, I wish I could control my own weather." Prussia waved him off. Didn't everyone at one point or another wish that?

"It's okay." Canada's phone rang then, startling him and making him tense. This caused his shoulder and hand to let him know they weren't pleased.

"I'll be right back."

---

It was a well-known myth that Romano had no office in his house as he seemed to have to need of one. Now he had one alright… Albeit a bit dusty. He tapped his fingers impatiently as he waited for Canada to pick up.

Feliciano was asleep in bed down the hall, he was glad for it too, he had nearly found the monitor storage.

"Bonjour?" Canada finally answered, he sounded angry.

"How is your hand?" Romano cut right to the chase, none of that beating around the bush bullshit. He could hear an exasperated groan from the other side of the phone.

"You nearly took off my middle finger and you tore up the back of my hand. I'm pretty sure most, if not all of my bones are cracked or broken." The anger in Canada's voice was a quiet thing, Romano could tell though he was furious and wanted an explanation.

"I wasn't aiming for your hand at all… And I was hoping the bullet wouldn't get stuck behind your shoulder blades… Are you alright now?"

"Prussia is in one of my guest rooms."

"What!? You traitorous-"

"Shh, shh, calm down. I haven't told him anything." Now something about that just didn't seem right to Lovino. He had shot this nothing but loyal man earlier that day… And he felt no reason to tell Prussia about the attacks?

"Nothing at all?"

"Nothing, Lovino." There was a rustling noise on the other end of the phone. "I'm probably going to a hospital tomorrow at earliest notice. I'll be lucky if I can ever move my hand right again I'd think." Romano remained silent, not sure of how to react to that, he wanted to tell Canada to do something to Prussia while he was there, but his heart wasn't in it for once. He just wanted to apologize.

"Did you just call me Lovino?"

"Do you mind?" Romano thought for a moment, but then decided that he did not, usually when Spain said it he became angry but Canada… He decided he really didn't mind his friends calling him his name.

"No, not really, I thought it was odd, though." There was an uncustomary awkward silence between the two. On Canada's part because he really didn't want to be talking to Romano right then with Prussia in the house and Lovino because he had shot Matthew after all. Probably disabling his hand for awhile… He really didn't know how to go about apologizing considering he'd never considered doing it before in his life. So he wouldn't, he couldn't.

"So, what now?"

"I don't know, Prussia's at your house…"

"He came here thinking I would know something. I can't do anything untoward to him right now."

"Untoward?" The only definition of that word that came to mind was Matthew coming onto Prussia… "What?"

Canada had immediately sensed which direction Lovino's head had gone, really not exactly a bad one, but concerning Prussia… Never in a thousand years. "Not that definition of the word Lovino."

"I thought as much…" Lovino could feel a slow blush working at his face even though the blonde was not there to stare at him stupidly.

"I have to go. I can hear Prussia walking down the hall. I'll talk to you later." He could hear Canada hang up the phone, not even waiting for Lovino's reply. On the one end, the gesture infuriated him beyond belief, but on the other hand… He shot him… Crippled his hand… By the strain in his voice it was clear he was still in pain. He hadn't meant for it to happen like that… He curled his legs up so his knees were in front of his face as he sat in his office chair. Would Canada want to come over any time soon? He found that he had grown rather attached to Matthew since they first started working with one another. He seemed cheerful but down to Earth. He was intelligent and could obviously take a joke. He was competent in nearly everything he did. Why did he get so little credit for what he was? Being forgotten by everyone… He sometimes felt that they were in the same boat.

Antonio… That asshole… He missed him so, he would never admit it though, not out loud anyway. How would Antonio react when he heard about him spending so much time with the other nation? Would he get jealous? Or would he like it? Antonio had always been saying that he needed to socialize more, but every time he had Antonio would always get jealous and that was the end of that.

"Why am I even thinking of that selfish bastard? He attacked me just because his boss said so." He then remembered Prussia's accusation in the closet those couple months ago. What he had said about the double standard…? It had been over two years now since the war had initially began between Spain and Italy, it had been over for about four months… Antonio had yet to apologize or even attempt to talk to him. Taking a shaky breath, he decided now that the double standard no longer existed.

-----

Notes:

Putain de merde--Goddammit

Not much else to say but we're getting there! Remember, reviews speed things along ;)

P.S. I'm going to Sugoicon at the end of the month if anyone else is :D